


Tinkering Together

by LadyDorian



Category: 60 Parsecs!
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Canon Compliant, Cunnilingus, F/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:15:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26797951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDorian/pseuds/LadyDorian
Summary: Emmet catches April in a compromising position.
Relationships: Emmet Ellis/April Angelle
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Tinkering Together

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write more pussy-eating.

The silence is deafening.

Emmet isn't sure what he'd been expecting when Captain Dawkins had told him to go check on April in the storage room—a bit of clanging maybe, or the irritating squeal of machinery being ripped apart and put back together. _Tinkering_ is what April likes to call it, but Emmet just called it a nuisance. Inside his head. When the rest of the crew wasn't listening. It's not his fault no one else on the ship has such sensitive ears. Or a spine strong enough to confront April about it.

 _Why couldn't the Captain have sent Baby instead? And what is April doing back there that could take so long?_ The answer to the first question is obvious: a pair of broad shoulders like Baby's would have stood a snowball's chance in hell of fitting through the narrow hall that leads to storage. It would be like cramming a potato in a tailpipe, or dropping a bowling ball into a toilet and hoping it would still flush. Entertaining yet incredibly stupid.

The second puzzle, however, is much harder to solve. Though he's not going to rule out the possibility that April might be a communist spy; she does seem to have an affinity for wearing hats and being angry all the time.

 _Right. Better to be safe than sorry._ Carefully, he creeps up on the storage room door and peers through the plexiglass window. And what he glimpses inside almost makes his heart stop.

April stands near the back of the compartment, one foot dug into the edge of a sealed crate, and every item of clothing—including her beloved cap—tossed to a sloppy pile in the corner. Her face is pointed towards the door, her eyes screwed shut, unruly hair tied in a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck. And down between her legs, her fingers massage the dark folds of her cunt, spreading her lips until all Emmet sees is soft, wet pink.

He spins around at once.

 _How? When? Why_ here _of all places?_ Granted, after forty days crammed into a tiny shuttle with three other people, even the most devout of monks would feel just a little frustrated. Emmet could tell something was afoot when he'd come back from a routine expedition to find Baby lying on top of the table—sweaty and grunting—while he pressed Captain Dawkins as if she were a barbell. And he himself couldn't deny the hours spent ogling April from across the way, wondering what her breasts looked like under her spacesuit, or how curly her pubic hair had gotten without the luxury of a razor to keep it in check. Pretty curly, if he recalls correctly. But it couldn't hurt to take another peek. For research purposes.

Exercising greater caution this time, he sidles up to the window and watches as April continues to pleasure herself. It must feel incredible, judging by the way she bites her plump lip and rolls her hips forward, plunging two fingers inside. He wouldn't mind pressing his face between those thighs and wriggling his tongue around to taste her juices. They're already tempting enough from a distance; imagine how delicious they must look up close, her skin glistening when she draws out to smear the sweet, slick mess all over her clit.

He presses the heel of his palm to his crotch, where his cock twitches inside his pants leg. _It's fine_ , he reasons; he'll make this quick. April will never know. She's clearly occupied with other things at the moment.

Quietly, he begins to unzip his fly. And that's when he hears it—

" _Emmet...Emmet…"_

Emmet jerks his head up.

 _Did she see? When she murders me, will it be quick and painless?_ No, she couldn't have seen him. Her eyes are still closed. Which means…

" _Emmet...fuck…"_

The sound only makes his cock ache harder, the realization curled around it like a warm, soft hand. Are April's hands soft? What about her mouth? How might her breasts feel if he were the one kneading them? She obviously likes to have her nipples pinched, rolling one between her thumb and forefinger as she cries out his name.

_Do you think...Would she let me..._

But Emmet doesn't get to finish that thought. One small, selfish step closer is all it takes for the automatic door to _whoosh_ open, leaving him standing there with his hand inside his pants and a look of absolute terror on his face.

April startles so fast, she almost topples over. " _Ellis?_ What the fu—" Cheeks red as a lobster, she scrambles to cover herself with her hands. " _Vous merde!_ What the hell were you doing out there!"

Signing his death certificate with his dick? "I-I-I just came to watch—see— _check_ if you—you—" He points behind her. "L-Look! A three-headed rusky!"

"That ain't gonna work on me," April growls, dropping her eyes to his crotch. "You pervert."

 _Shit shit shit_ — Emmet's trembling fingers race to zip up his fly. "N-No, I'm not—I _swear_ —" Though his promises might have a better chance of sticking if he could keep his gaze from drifting below April's face. "I-I was just following orders."

"Uh-huh." She scans his body from head-to-toe before locking eyes with him and running her tongue across her lip menacingly. "Take your clothes off."

Emmet's eardrums nearly burst. " _What?"_

"I said take your clothes off. You like following orders, right?"

"B-But—"

"You got to see me naked. Now I get to see _you_ naked. Fair's fair."

He swallows. "I—I can't." It's not an excuse; he just doesn't believe he'll be able to get his suit down over his tent-pole of an erection.

"Do it," April says with a scathing glare. "Or I'll report you to the Captain. I'm sure she'll love to hear about her Science Officer jacking it to the Comms girl."

Technically, it had been more of a leisurely rub, but the last thing Emmet needs is to be tossed from the ship because he couldn't keep his dick under control. "All—Alright. Just...give me a minute." He steps out of the entrance so the door can close behind him, then turns and punches in the lock code—something April should have done earlier, if she'd been thinking with her brain and not her hormones. So much for being alert.

A quick wave of his hand tells him the door is sealed properly, though it doesn't make what he's about to do any less uncomfortable. The gloves come off first, followed by his boots. His belt clatters to the floor with a sharp echo, a warning in his head: _Think unsexy thoughts, think unsexy thoughts._ But there aren't enough mathematical equations in the history of the universe that could rid his mind of the image of April fingering her dripping cunt. No matter how he looks at it, he's purely and utterly fucked.

He manages to strip off his spacesuit, folds it neatly, sets it aside with the rest. Fingers the band of his briefs as he tries to buy himself more time.

"Hurry up!" April yells. "I ain't got all day."

 _Well, here goes nothing._ With everything left to lose, Emmet shoves his underwear to the floor and pivots to face her, throbbing cock and all.

She glares so hard it's a miracle his balls don't retract inside himself. " _Pervert."_

"Well, you didn't make it easy!" Emmet protests.

"Well you're the one standing there ready to cut glass!"

"You were the one masturbating!"

"You were the one spying on me!"

" _You_ were the one moaning _my_ name!"

At that, April clamps her lips shut and looks away. And maybe his cock _is_ hard enough to cut glass, but Emmet thinks he would rather cut her some slack instead. God knows he's not the only horny one on this ship.

"You know," he says cautiously, "if you want...we could…"

Silence blankets the room, broken only by the sound of April seething through her nose like a bull facing off with a fire truck. A moment passes, another. Then, finally, she turns to him and snaps, "Fine. But this better be worth it."

 _Oh, it will be._ This isn't Emmet's first rodeo.

Permission all but assured, he reaches for his cock and gives it a languid tug, so April can see how badly he's leaking, that he wants this as much as she does. But all April seems to want is to spread her suit out on the cold, steel floor—the best bed they can muster given the circumstances. Once finished, she lies down with her knees open wide, arms holding her up so she can properly scowl at him when she says, "Well, what are you waiting for? An invitation?"

Emmet forces himself not to smile, a tiny voice inside warning that April would not be pleased. Instead, he simply kneels, lays his glasses atop the rest of his clothing and quietly crawls over her, stopping once they're staring face-to-face. He leans in but April just huffs and turns her head to the side.

That's fine; there are plenty of other places he can plant his lips. Like the sleek, tempting curve of her neck.

He starts by kissing softly below her earlobe, the skin there tasting of sweat and arousal, sweet as a lollipop, intoxicating as liquor. One hickey leads to another, a whole menagerie of them—no worries, no holding back. No matter how many marks he leaves, her suit collar will cover it all. And if a few do manage to peek out, Emmet will gladly take responsibility. Maybe Captain Dawkins should know that he's fucked the Comms girl. At least then, no one could accuse them of not having enough vigor.

His soft suckling soon turns to nips and bites, as though to prove to himself that even here, in the farthest reaches of uncharted space, he still knows how to make a woman writhe and moan, despite how hard April tries to fight it. She can clench her muscles all she wants, but it can't hide her trembling, or stop the sharp gasps that escape her throat each time Emmet sinks his teeth in. They only grow in number when he skims a hand along her side, his thumb grazing the stiff peak of a nipple.

Emmet always thought she'd had nice breasts hiding under that loose-fitting suit. But now that he has them within his grasp, he realizes just how firm and full they are, and wonderfully supple. His mouth waters in anticipation as he leaves her neck and kisses lower, until his lips brush yet another hard little nub. April moans loudly and arches upwards, and Emmet takes that as his cue to latch on and start sucking.

Each nipple is like heaven in the palm of his hand, buttons more sensitive than the crafting module, flesh tastier than all the soup in the pantry. If it were up to him he would spend hours here, flicking his tongue back and forth, pinching his fingers together until they can feel nothing else. But there are other pleasures that tug at his taste buds, fires that only he can put out. Burning white-hot the second he drags his fingers through her bush and dips them between her thighs.

 _Fuck,_ he's never gotten someone so wet for him before. But April is dripping like she's played this scenario out for days, weeks, months, maybe before they'd even left the station. How often had her hands lingered on her body in the communal showers? How many times had she undressed him in the mess hall? Would she touch herself each night after her bunkmates fell asleep? Did she imagine that it was _his_ fingers inside her? His tongue on her clit? His cock making her come so hard she'd never dare to dream of anything else?

The thought sends a jolt of electricity straight to his groin. Fingers soaked to the bone, he rubs her slit lovingly, listens to her gasp, moans along with her as he takes care to brush her clit on the way out. He'd suck them clean if he wasn't afraid of ruining the surprise. Though it takes less than a minute for him to kiss below her breast and down her chubby stomach, thirsty yet patient enough to enjoy a lazy romp through her pubes. Once his nose has nuzzled to its heart's content, he drops down to his elbows and brings his face close to her cunt, pushing her lips back until her gorgeous clit shines proudly. He was right; it _does_ look more delicious in person, everything wet and gleaming and begging for him to take a sip. Only a fool would be too stupid not to reach for the glass.

Closing his eyes, Emmet presses forward and slips his tongue between her silken lips.

April arches her hips instantly. " _Ah!_ That's— _fuck_ …"

The feeling is mutual; the taste like honey on his tongue. Every lick another temptation planted in his brain. He wants to finger her by the airlock, eat her pucker in the engine room. Lounge in bed while she rides his face until his chin becomes a waterfall. He's already halfway there, nose rubbing against her clit as he presses his tongue in deeper. Sweet juices on his lips, thick musk filling his nostrils. April moaning like he never thought she could.

" _Ah...Ah...Em—"_

Two slender fingers glide along her taint and tease their way inside, Emmet sliding back just far enough that he can watch her swallow them to the knuckle. And if he'd thought her pretty little lips were scrumptious, her cunt is even more so—hot and tight, ready to take whatever he's willing to give. He curls his fingertips and feels her walls clench deliciously, savors the sensation before he dives in to tongue her slit again.

" _Emmet...Emmet…"_

It's louder than before, more enticing. Making his ears tingle and his cock throb with envy. 

" _Emmet!"_

Dragging his tongue up to her swollen clit, Emmet lifts his head and shoots her a curious look. "What's wrong?" He asks, brow furrowed in concern. "Is the beard bothering you?"

April's chest heaves with each ragged breath, her cheeks flushed, bangs plastered to her forehead, lips bitten to a beautiful, rosy pink. "Don't stop—I'm close— _Please."_

He's never heard her beg with such helplessness, or felt his insides burn with such unquenchable desire to please. Pressing a delicate kiss to her clit, he folds his lips around it and begins to suck, his tongue flicking out every few seconds while his fingers twist, pump and curl. Soon, April's legs are shaking like leaves, her moans rising, pussy growing slicker and hotter. Then, with one long, throaty groan, she arches her back and comes hard, tightening around him as if she never intends to let go.

Slowly, Emmet sits up and wipes the come from his beard, the fingers that had been inside her now shriveled and stained a milky white. "Was—"

" _Fuck me,"_ she commands breathlessly, barely able to hold herself up. "I want it."

"But...I don't have a condom." Truth be told, he was hoping he could just jerk off on her tits instead. 

April grabs his arm and yanks him into a kiss so rough and hungry he feels his stomach growl. " _Do it,"_ is all she says before collapsing onto her back in exhaustion. Horny or not, Emmet isn't about to argue. He's sure the Astrocitizen Organization would have wanted them to repopulate the new world at some point.

He takes his cock in hand and starts slicking himself up, the combination of April's come and his own shameless drippings a perfect substitute for name-brand lube. Getting inside her should be easy with how wet and open she is. But Emmet vows to relish every second, rubbing his head against her lips, tapping her clit a few times to hear her groan impatiently. Enjoying as much foreplay as he can before April starts to growl again, as if she might reach between his legs and do the damn job herself. Best not to keep her waiting.

Gripping the back of her thigh, he pushes her knee to her chest and slowly eases inside. And if his lungs could gasp any harder, he's certain they'd climb right out of his throat.

She's unbelievably, _mind-blowingly_ good, every inch like wet satin wrapped around his cock. Her pussy is still contracting from the orgasm he'd given her, little ripples that tease and torment until he feels he might explode at any moment.

He can't—he _won't_ —he has to—

" _Fuck,_ you feel incredible," he breathes as he sinks down and buries his face in her hair, holding still for as long as possible before necessity forces him to rock his hips. "Is it— _ah_ —good?"

April answers with a moan and arches against him, blunt nails clawing at his back. " _Emmet…more…"_

Emmet heeds the call and fucks into her with all he's got, unable to think, to stop, to feel anything but her hot breath and her sweat-slick skin and her velvety cunt clutching him like there's no tomorrow. And if there truly isn't, then he'll savor today to the last second. He'll let himself go without a shred of hesitation. Without a single drop of regret.

With a low groan, he pulls his pulsing cock out, weeks worth of tension spurting across April's belly in long, thick ropes.

They lie there panting for some time after, their bones jelly, muscles weak as splintered twigs. The peace after the storm, drowsy and full of hope. Then, squirming, April pushes against him. "Get off."

It takes some effort, but Emmet obliges, collapsing with his back to the side wall and his neck resting on the large pipe that spans its length. Bleary-eyed, he watches April pull herself to her feet, beads of his come rolling down her belly and into her matted pubes. Her spacesuit is no less of a disaster, though Emmet thinks if she tries hard enough she might be able to pass the streaks off as grease stains. At least Baby would be dumb enough to believe it.

She sneers and tosses the ruined suit aside before storming over and snatching up her underwear. But Emmet isn't quite as eager to run.

"Hey."

April snaps the elastic in place and turns with a scowl. " _What."_

He doesn't need to say anything to get his message across; the simple act of stretching out his arm is enough to beckon April closer, though she pouts and huffs until every ounce of breath is gone. She settles on the floor beside him, knees drawn to her bare chest and chin resting on top. Tears shimmer in the corner of her eye, but Emmet makes no move to sweep them away. Rather, he curls his arm around her and gently guides her head to his shoulder, taking in a deep, calming breath. "You know," he says, as he strokes her hair, "if you want, maybe we could do this again sometime. There's a quiet spot out by the caves. A little dusty, but the air is somewhat breathable. It might be nice."

A moment of silence passes between them, hearts beating, skin warming the cold, empty air. Then, he hears April hum softly, and feels her body relax against his. And though he can't see it, he likes to imagine she's smiling now, eyes shut and head full of pleasant thoughts. "Yeah. I think—maybe—I might like that."

Tipping his head to the ceiling, Emmet closes his eyes and smiles back, and hopes the others will hold off searching for them just yet. If only for one minute more.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this sploosh-fest please leave kudos or comments.
> 
> You can also come chat with me on [tumblr.](http://ladydorian.tumblr.com)


End file.
